


Everything Will Be Alright In the End

by GrandDukeForever



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bittersweet, Bittersweet Ending, Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest, Sibling Love, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 06:07:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1116404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrandDukeForever/pseuds/GrandDukeForever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raleigh's found him, but he doesn't remember anything.  In fact, Yancy doesn't remember a lot of things.  His head has suffered a lot of trauma after being thrown out of Gipsy Danger, but that's okay because everything is going to be fine now.  After all, they're finally together again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything Will Be Alright In the End

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zoi no miko (zoi_no_miko)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoi_no_miko/gifts).



> Yay! Another one!! Lolol. Okay, so I admit that I'm stalling...I've hit a bit of an unexpected writer's block on one of my three pending stories. I'll get back to it soon though! To my surprise, a lot of people seem to be interested in what's going to happen next, based on the numbers. Funny thing is...I SORT OF DON'T KNOW MYSELF!! LOL!! I had all of it mapped out, and then I discovered that a couple parts didn't work...so I've been trying to figure those out...
> 
> ANYWAY! I decided to write one more surprise story in the meantime. This reader is almost about tied with my other regular supporter who I just wrote a gift fic for.
> 
> To **zoi no miko**. Took a wild guess. Hope you like it. Crossing my fingers. Thanks so much for all the support you've given me. :)

He remembers nothing of the time from before they pulled him out of the water. When he first opens his eyes and looks up at a white hospital ceiling, what he sees reflects the same state of his mind.  
  
Nothing. Blank.  
  
He's asked basic things. Try as he might, he can find no answers.  
  
 _“What is your name?"_  
  
He has no clue. He shakes his head in response.  
  
 _"Where are you from?"_  
  
No idea about that one either. He shrugs and leans back into the mattress, head on the pillow.  
  
 _"Can you speak?"_  
  
He's tired. He doesn't want to talk. He turns his head to the side, facing away, as if to emphasize his point. He hears the doctor responsible for his care sigh.  
  
 _"Very well. For now, please rest."_  
  
That's no problem at all. He closes his eyes.  
  
A nurse was able to identify him, finally. When the cuts on his face had healed. It had helped that one of his saviors had come by too, to visit him upon hearing that he had regained consciousness. The man had a pair of dog tags in his hand, linked on a chain, apparently bearing his name. The man hadn't known; hadn't realized. Not really in tune with pop culture. A little behind the times. That was all right. He was very old. Nobody blamed him. It was his grandsons who had pulled the young man out of the water onto their grandfather's boat and took him to the hospital. The tags had fallen to the ground in their haste, and the old man had picked them up and pocketed them for safe keeping while muttering under his breath about children always being in such a hurry these days.  
  
Yancy Becket. That was his name. He was famous, supposedly.  
  
He had a younger brother too. Also a superstar of sorts. Raleigh Becket. The name sounds familiar—makes his heart flutter, in fact—though Yancy can't possibly imagine why. They were a team, apparently. Fighting the terrifying creatures called Kaiju that always appeared on the news. He had been something called a Jaeger pilot. Whatever that was. Yancy didn't know. He was still trying to get used to responding to his name. His brother disappeared shortly after it was believed that Yancy had been killed. There was no number to call; the hospital couldn't reach him. In fact, no one could get in touch with Raleigh for a while.  
  
Until five years had gone by, and Raleigh Becket once again reappeared on the world stage for his encore. As a Jaeger pilot on official business. He was busy saving the world.  
  
Yancy was sent to a center of assisted living, once he'd physically recovered. He's fine to live there, quietly. He doesn't seem to mind that, aside from the staff, he's pretty much the youngest one there. No one really bothers him, especially because he refuses to talk. He's just fine with keeping his solitude. The rest soon becomes forgotten.

There's a reason for his silence though. Yancy just never bothers to explain. He finds it much easier to let the world think that he's mute. It allows him to think.

Sometimes, he thinks he hears things. Specifically, a voice. It's familiar. Deep down, he gets the sense he knows who it belongs too, but the voice is so faint, like a whisper. Yancy gets frustrated easily and so he doesn't spend too much time trying to figure it out. His memories will all return to him one day, he's told. It's more of a hope than a sure truth, but still, Yancy chooses to hang on to that promise.

Other times, he definitely sees images, even if he doesn't know what they mean. It won't be until much later when he realizes what he sees are called memories. In the meantime, he just watches the moving pictures roll by.

 _Kids running around outdoors._ _Shouts of joy and shared laughter. The older boy always waiting for the younger._

Yancy becomes fixated on the younger boy. He doesn't know why. When he does though, there's a hazy cloud that forms in his eyes. That's when the people around him know that he's lost, far away in some kind of imaginative world, eyes temporarily blind and of course, his lips remain unmoving. Being left alone with his thoughts is nothing new; the only thing that changes is no one tries to offer him food during scheduled mealtimes. They've learned that what little appetite he has to begin with disappears completely when his mind wanders, and while lost in these moments, he appears not to hear anything anyway.  
  
It isn't until someone sees his little brother stop the apocalypse, live on television, that someone remembers to place a call. Raleigh Becket's contact information isn't concealed for government reasons anymore, and with a bit of research, he can be and is found.

“ _We have your brother here_ _.”_

Raleigh catches the next flight he can to Anchorage as soon as he's told. He's been briefed on his brother's current condition, but any thoughts or feelings of concern are overpowered by joy and anticipation. By some miracle, Yancy is alive, and Raleigh is going to be able to see his brother again. After five years. Tears stream freely down Raleigh's cheeks at some point during his flight, and he really doesn't give a damn who sees or what they think.  
  
Meanwhile, a call is also placed to the staff where Yancy resides. They are informed that Raleigh Becket is on his way, and they in turn let Yancy know that his brother is coming.

Yancy is busy working on an arts and crafts project when he is told the news. His brows are furrowed together in concentration and he stares intently at what he's working on while the staff member relays the message. For the briefest of moments, Yancy's hands stop moving and a flicker of something shows in his eyes, but it disappears just as quickly and he resumes his handiwork. The moment is so fleeting that the attendant misses it altogether. Satisfied that they have at least performed their duty, the messenger leaves Yancy to his own devices, his lack of response simply written off as typical behavior. What they don't realize, is that the wheels in Yancy's mind start to turn as he continues working on his assortment of miniature clay pottery.

The name _Raleigh_ stirs something inside of Yancy. The name reminds him of blue eyes, a cheeky smile, and locks of blonde hair.

A young man's voice addresses him, hours later. It's in a breathless whisper. Yancy is still making little clay pots and bowls, among other things.

“ _Yancy...”_

Perhaps it's because of the hint of awe in the way the young man says his name. Yancy looks up, and his hands stop moving. The second their eyes meet, it's as if a floodgate opens. Various moments—echoes of a past forgotten—suddenly flash through Yancy's mind. As the memories play, he hears the voice of another in the room with the young man, though it comes through faintly through the din that Yancy is currently experiencing.

Raleigh is told not to feel disappointed if Yancy remains silent; that this is how he's been since he's arrived here. Raleigh's reply to the staff member is that it doesn't matter; that he was already informed of the facts prior to his arrival, and that the only thing that matters most is that he has his older brother back. The faculty member leaves once receiving this confirmation, and soon the pair of brothers are the only ones left in the room. Raleigh pulls up a chair and takes a seat beside his brother. Yancy is lost in a memory.

_A loud roar can be heard over the chaos of emergency sirens. Two men in white suits, connected by wires to a gigantic machine made of metal. Yancy's heart beats rapidly, filled with panic. He's hyperventilating. To his left is the man he just saw seconds ago before him. Frantic words are exchanged. The younger man screams._

“ _He's broken through the hull!”_

_Yancy looks to his right, and he sees the face of a ferocious beast staring right at him. Yancy turns his head back to his left, and fear rips through him because he knows he's not going to make it. He wants to make sure the young man does, though. Yancy wants to make sure that the other man lives, at all costs._

_Quickly as he can, he shouts out instructions. “Raleigh, listen to me! You have to—!”_

_Unfortunately, he never gets the chance to finish. His stomach flips and a rushing sensation courses through him as he feels himself being torn away from the wires he's connected to, and made dizzy when his body is flung away mercilessly._

Yancy's breath hitches softly. He is coaxed back to reality by Raleigh, who gently brushes away several strands of hair from the older man's face. Raleigh smiles when he sees Yancy's eyes come back into focus. It's a bit of a lopsided grin.

Raleigh chuckles softly. “Hey.”

Yancy's eyebrows crease together in a light frown. His eyes slowly trail to the younger man's shoulder. Raleigh observes quietly. Yancy tilts his head, eyes flitting back to look into Raleigh's pair of blue. The expression on Yancy's face is curious, questioning. When he does speak, finally, Yancy does so very softly that Raleigh almost misses it.

“...does it hurt?”

Raleigh blinks. It takes him a few seconds to realize what the older man is referring to—the scar on his left arm, left there by the last Kaiju they fought together. Knifehead. Raleigh isn't sure if Yancy remembers, or if he just happens to see it in the Drift and has yet to understand what it is he's looking at. Raleigh brushes his fingers over his left shoulder absently before he responds with a half smile, shaking his head.

“No...” Raleigh says in a low voice, jaw a little tense. “No, it doesn't. Not anymore.”

Yancy nods and turns back to his work. Raleigh tries to ignore the slight pang he feels in his chest as he tells himself the look that sweeps over Yancy's face isn't really one of disinterest; he's just reading too much into it.

A few minutes pass in silence. Raleigh watches his brother carefully mold a new ball of clay into yet another creation. He's so preoccupied with staring at Yancy's face, that he doesn't notice when the older man's hands stop for a second time in mid-action. The only thing that alerts him to something possibly being wrong is when a small frown forms on Yancy's face again as he's unexpectedly hit with another memory.

_A young boy cries at the foot of the stairs. He looks no older than six or seven. Yancy's standing at the top, and he finds himself making the descent towards the child. The boy stops crying when he reaches out his hands and cups them around the little boy's face, silently encouraging the child to lift his head. The boy does. Yancy feels himself frowning._

“ _Wh_ _at's the matter?” he asks the little boy. “Why are you crying?”_

_The child responds tearfully, with hiccups in between. “J-Jimmy b-broke m-my...”_

_He trails off, blubbering. Yancy presses the younger boy patiently._

“ _Jimmy broke what? Tell me, Rals..”_

Rals. Short for Raleigh. The boy's name is Raleigh. This is significant somehow, Yancy knows, but realization still remains just out of his reach. A tad frustrated, instead of trying harder, Yancy just returns his focus to the ongoing memory.

_The little boy holds up a box containing broken pieces of what used to be a clay vase to show him. The shards make a clinking noise inside the box._

“ _M-m_ _y...m-my...my m-masterpiece...!” Raleigh finally manages._

_Yancy feels a flare of anger rise in his chest, and silently vows to figure out who this Jimmy kid is and deal with him later. He drops his hands slowly from Raleigh's face and places them around the box of broken fragments. When Yancy squats down to the younger boy's eye-level, Raleigh looks at him. Yancy feels himself smile. It's a small one, attempting to be reassuring._

“ _Tell you what, Rals...” Yancy says, gently tugging the box away from the younger child. “How about I make you another?"_

_This response seems to appease the younger boy instantly. A shy smile starts to form, subtly illuminating Raleigh's youthful features. Yancy suppresses a chuckle when the little boy enthusiastically nods._

“ _Yes, please, Yancy...!”_

_Yancy grins and holds out one of his hands, holding the box with its broken contents under his other arm. “All right then, come with me. Can't promise it's going to look the same though; all we've got here is Play-Doh.”_

_Raleigh giggles and takes Yancy's hand. “That's okay! I'm just happy you're making me something, Yance!”_

“ _I'll do anything for you,” Yancy says, smiling. “But you know that, don't you, Raleigh?”_

Yancy finds himself snapping back to reality just before the memory reaches the point where the little boy gives his response. He blinks several times and mutters something under his breath.

“ _Raleigh_...”

He frowns to himself as he tests the way the name feels, rolling off his tongue. He looks up when he catches the man sitting next to him tense, out of the corner of his eye. Yancy looks at him curiously. The man has tears in his eyes.

“What's the matter?” Yancy asks, tilting his head slightly to one side. “Why are you crying...?”

“Nothing,” the other man says, shaking his head, a small smile on his face. “Nothing, it's just...what you just said made me happy is all.”

“...it did?” Yancy asks, looking confused.

Raleigh laughs softly and nods. “Yeah...yeah, it did.”

Yancy's tongue flicks out nervously, wetting his lips. He wants to ask the younger man something, but all of a sudden he finds himself afraid to ask it, for fear of upsetting the other man. Unexpectedly then, Raleigh smiles at him.

“Go ahead,” he whispers, giving Yancy a small, one-shoulder shrug. “It's all right. Just ask me.”

It's as if the younger man can read his mind. Instead of bewilderment, Yancy finds that this makes complete and perfect sense somehow. The only thing is, he can't seem to explain it. At the moment, he doesn't feel compelled to try. He's more concerned at the moment about the well-being of the young man before him.

Sensing it's safe to ask the question, Yancy does. “Why?”

“Because that's my name,” Raleigh says with a smile. “Raleigh.”

“Raleigh...” Yancy repeats softly.

His attention diverts to his pottery again, briefly. He murmurs the younger man's name over and over like he's trying to remember something, as he gingerly runs his fingers over an unused ball of clay.

“Raleigh...Raleigh... _Rals_...”

Yancy looks back up at Raleigh again after a moment, a conflict of emotions on his face. His lips are curled into a small smile, but his brows are furrowed together as if he's uncertain. He holds up the unused chunk of clay.

“Shall I make you one?” he asks suddenly.

Raleigh blinks in confusion and then shakes his head, a bemused smile on his lips. “I'm sorry...what?”

“I don't know...” Yancy says with a slight shrug, gently squeezing the clay he's holding in his hand. “I...a masterpiece, perhaps...?”

He asks the question in such a hesitant tone that Raleigh almost doesn't make the connection. Then, as if receiving a reprimand from the Drift itself, Raleigh is slammed by the memory.

“ _Tell you what, Rals...how about I make you another?”_

Two brothers, a broken vase, and a pack of Play-Doh. Raleigh's jaw involuntarily drops slightly and he chokes up, fresh tears springing to his eyes. He wants to laugh and cry at the same time. So he does.

Raleigh chuckles softly while shaking his head. The smile he wears contradicts the stream of tears that flow freely down his cheeks. Once again, Yancy tilts his head to the side, this time with his brows furrowed together in concern.

“Hey...you all right there, kiddo...?”

Raleigh's eyes widen slightly in disbelief, and he quickly wipes away the tears from his eyes. “S-sorry...what did you say?”

Yancy frowns. “I said...are you all right...?”

“No, no,” Raleigh says, shaking his head. “After that. What you said after that.”

“Just now...?” Yancy asks, shaking his head as he chews his lower lip in thought. “I...sorry. I know it was just a second ago, but...”

Raleigh laughs softly. “No...of course. It's all right...I was probably just hearing things, anyhow.”

A strange silence settles between them. It's odd for a moment, but not exactly awkward. At some point, Yancy's hands resume their movement and Raleigh finds his attention drawn to them.

The connection's a bit rusty, but Raleigh can feel a familiar tickle in his mind; the barest threads of a Drift connection that was never quite completely lost. Now it's all just a matter of rebuilding the bridge. Yancy may have forgotten things, but Raleigh is determined to help him find them again. Raleigh isn't worried at all about how long or how soon, for at this point, with help from the Drift, it really is only a matter of time.

Time is something that they have plenty of now. Yancy's alive, he's here with Raleigh, and so long as that remains the case, Raleigh is sure that everything is going to be all right.

Raleigh senses that Yancy is once again lost deeply in thought. For a moment, the younger man watches his brother slowly mold the malleable matter into the beginnings of a small vase. Testing the waters, Raleigh scoots in a bit closer to his brother. Just as he suspects, Yancy doesn't so much as blink—that's how focused he is on his little project.

Cautiously, so as not to startle the older man, Raleigh moves in even closer and slowly draws his arms around his brother, enveloping him in a warm embrace. Yancy's still staring at the material in his hands, and Raleigh watches his brother's fingers move as he rests part of his head against his brother's temple. Eyes still observing his brother's hands, Raleigh tilts his chin slightly so that his lips are hovering just over one of his brother's ears.

“I love you, Yancy...” Raleigh whispers softly.

Yancy neither responds nor acknowledges that he's heard a word. Raleigh closes his eyes, and lifts his head a bit higher so he can press an affectionate kiss to the side of his brother's head. Raleigh then buries his face in the crook of his brother's neck, whispering more loving words into his brother's skin.

Meanwhile, as Yancy works, he sees flickers of days gone by—the stories he sees are not always told linearly. One moment, there's a game of tag. In the next, he and Raleigh are sitting by a river flowing through Europe. It will take some time before he remembers that he and Raleigh are brothers; that they traveled for a while, because of their parents, and that at some point in their lives, the Kaiju threat appeared, leading them to go and become Jaeger pilots.

One day, Yancy will remember what a Jaeger is. He'll recall that he used to pilot one with Raleigh, and that the name of their machine was called Gipsy Danger. He'll remember that day with Knifehead—how he almost died, and how Raleigh one day finds him, years later, by some unforeseen miracle.

He'll apologize profusely for forgetting, and Raleigh will tell him not to worry about it—he did nothing wrong, and so there's nothing to forgive. Sometimes, Yancy will wake up screaming from a nightmare, but Raleigh will be right there to save him. Raleigh will know just what to do, because before he found his older brother again, it was Raleigh who was the one plagued with them. Screaming at the top of his lungs in terror and reaching out his arms, clawing ravenously at something that wasn't even there.

There will be a day when Yancy finally remembers—when one day he'll wake up beside Raleigh in bed before the younger man does, and he'll surprise his little brother with a gentle whisper in his ear; a full kiss on the lips. It'll be several months, however, before this comes to pass.

Raleigh can handle this, though. He's sure of it, especially when Yancy finishes his clay sculpting and lifts it up in his hands to give the younger man a better look.

Yancy turns his head slightly, seemingly unfazed by the fact that Raleigh's in such close proximity. What the brain can't remember, the bodily senses do not so easily forget.

“What about this?” Yancy asks.

“It's perfect,” Raleigh answers back with a whisper, pressing another kiss to the older man's head. “I love it, Yance.”

Yancy smiles an almost goofy, lopsided smile. “Yeah...?  Good.  I'm glad you like it...shall I make you another?”

Raleigh laughs softly. He gives one of his brother's shoulders a light squeeze.

“Yes,” Raleigh says with a nod. “Please do.”

Raleigh continues watching his brother and his movements silently, content. He can wait.

Yancy hums happily and reaches for another piece of unused clay. “Hm...all right, then.”

Raleigh smiles. He can wait a long time.

Forever, if he has to.


End file.
